Stan Thompson Went Looking for Sam, the Good Man His Daughter Loves
by Perdition Raiser
Summary: Sam, Cas and Dean rescue Amelia Richardson's father [Stan Thompson] from a supernatural mishap and he wants answers. He wants to understand, he wants to see the reason behind why Sam really does have the look that shows he's seen a shit load of shit. Dean doesn't like him very much, but he talks to him for Sammy's sake. mentions of Samlia and Dean/Jo. Sam/Dean/Cas-friendship.


**Here's a oneshot i thought of while rambling on tumblr hope you guys like its. I guess it's set in season nine or eight. just after Dean comes back from purgatory. **

Dean was sitting in his motel room with Cas. He was reclining in a chair at the small wooden table while flicking around his butterfly knife in a way that was strangely elegant but also incredibly dangerous.

"Where the hell is Sam?" he asked clearly aggravated.

"He said he needed to stay behind, the reason as to why he needs to do so I am not aware of." Cas answered, he hadn't moved from where he was standing, looking out of the window.

Before Dean could reply the motel door opened and Sam walked in with a man behind him, but Dean didn't get up from his seat, he just continued to watch from where he was.

The smaller bald man that moved to stand next to Sam looked back at Dean with a hard glare. He was one of the victims from the case they just finished. It was an interesting case. A demon that had a wendigo on a leash like a dog and was terrorizing a small town in Illinois. He had been in the middle of it, trying to keep some civilians safe and then Sam and Dean and Cas showed up.

He had noticed something off with the way the man had looked at Sam but he never said anything.

"Where yah been? And why did you bring the vic?" Dean asked, continuing with the flicking of his knife.

Cas turned around and tilted his head in confusion.

"Vic?" the ball guys said.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Vic. _Victim_."

"I ain't a vic." the guy said stubbornly.

Dean looked at him, really looked at him. He was a grunt. Army maybe, some sort of military, Dean could tell, he could always tell. Ever since Dad.

"Yes, you are. Military don't mean shit when you're _our_ kind of civilian, buddy. You're a vic."

"Dean, chill out." Sam said rubbing his temples.

"Well?" Dean said standing and holding his hands out to his sides, "You gonna explain? We don't just bring in strays Sam."

Sam sighed and sat down on the edge of one of the beds. He let out a sigh and the bald man shifted from foot to foot nervously.

"Stan you can sit down." Sam mumbled before looking at his brother and Cas.

"He's not a stray Dean, I know him. He's a... a friend."

"A friend?" Cas asked.

"Sammy, all of our friends are dead, save one or two."

"My name is Stan Thompson." the man said as if it were an explanation.

"Okay? And?" Dean asked.

"He's Amelia's father, Dean." Sam deadpanned.

Dean's eyebrows hit his hairline, "Shit, didn't see that coming."

"I only met Sam once." Stan explains, "And I didn't like him at first but by the end of the night, I liked him a little, and I understood him. But there was something about him I just didn't understand. He had the look, but he said he hadn't seen any action."

"Not the kind of action you asked him about anyways." Dean said stiffly an then snorted, "And as a side note, nice to meet you I've never met anyone who didn't like Sammy before."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean shut up for a minute would you?"

Dean sat back down after shooting Sam a small grin, and picked up the knife again.

"Stan, as you know, has now seen first hand what a demon and a wendigo are like, and he wanted more information." Sam explained, "He was curious."

"So? We don't usually explain things in depth to people."

"I insisted." Stan said looking at Dean.

Dean raised an eyebrow and Sam cleared his throat, "He uh, said he'd tell Amelia about me, the truth."

"You son of a bitch." Dean growled.

"I want to keep the people I love safe, and getting information from you three, is how to do it." Stan said icily.

Dean regarded him for moment before nodding slightly.

"So, I'm Stan Thompson and I know that _he_ is Sam Winchester." Stan said pointing at Sam, "So who are you two?"

Dean sighed, "I'm Dean."

"Yeah I got that, Dean who?"

"Dean Winchester."

"Stan, _this_ is my brother." Sam told him.

"You said your brother was dead."

"No I said I lost him. And I did, he didn't die, I _lost_ him." Sam explained.

" How do you _lose _a person? Where did he go?" Stan asked in disbelief.

"Honestly?" Dean asked, "Me and Cas here took the Leviathan bus right to Purgatory."

"Purgatory?" Stan asked, "So I supposed you've been to Hell too then?"

Sarcasm was dripping from Stan's voice but Dean was so serious it was deadly.

"Yeah actually, I have." The muscle in Dean's jaw twitched and Stan looked at him in surprise, "Sam has too. Longer than me, but then again we had differen't experiences down in the pit, now didn't we Sammy?"

"We are not talking about this right now." Sam said frustrated, Dean did not like Stan, that was clear, and he really wasn't in the mood to deal with Dean being a protective and aggressive older brother.

"So he's not lying?" Stan asked.

Sam turned to Amelia's father and looked at him with eyes that were so broken and tired that the bald man took in a deep breath, "No, he's not."

"What about heaven?" Stan asked slowly.

Cas stiffened and Dean snorted, "Oh yeah, but we're not to fond of the environment up there, or the people in charge for that matter."

"Stan," Sam said directing his attention away from the older Winchester, "You wanted to know who he is," Sam pointed at Cas, "He's Castiel."

"Castiel? Odd name, Castiel who?"

"I do not have a last name." Cas said deeply and quietly.

"What do you mean you don't have a last name? Everyone does."

"No, every human does." Cas answered.

"Our buddy Cas is an honest to god angel of the lord." Dean said with a tight grin.

Cas actually rolled his eyes and glared at Dean as he sat across the table from him.

"You saw a demon tonight Stan, it's not so hard to believe in angels." Sam told him.

"Yeah, just not how I pictured meeting one for the first time."

"I am not the kind of angel you would normally encounter, ever." Cas told him, "I was a warrior of God and now I am disobedient and friends with humans, I am not ideal."

"But other than you and a few others most of those flying ass monkeys are dicks anyways." Dean said slapping Cas' shoulder.

They were silent for a few moments before Dean went over to the fridge and got everyone a beer. Dean and Stan opened there's on the table and Sam half smiled at Stan.

"So Stan, what do you wanna know?" Sam asked.

"How did you two even get into this mess?"

"It's the family business." Dean said and then took a swig of his beer.

"We were kind of born to do this," Sam explained, "Our destinies were planned out way before our parents were alive. But long story short? When I was six months old a demon came into my nursery and when my mom walked in he set the place on fire."

"My dad handed me Sammy and I ran outside with him," Dean continued, "I was four. My dad watched our mom burn to death on the ceiling. Dad spent the rest of his life chasing the demon that killed her."

"And he was a marine?"

"Yup," Sam said nodding, "He was in Iraq before he met our mom."

"We were raised this way," Dean said leaning forward, "To be hunters. It's all we know. Sammy got out for a little while, went to Stanford. I got out after Sam jumped into the pit and stopped the apocalypse, but he came back and so did the monsters."

"And then I got out, when Dean and Cas went to purgatory, I got out with Amelia. But Dean came back." Sam said, his voice sounded strained, as did Deans. They just sounded so tired.

"Once you're in you don't get out Stan." Dean said solemnly.

"We found out later that our mom was a hunter before she met our dad. Her entire family, a truck load of cousins, the whole shebang." Sam added, "Our Dad treated us like soldiers, our relationship with him was strained, one of the reasons I wanted out so bad I was younger, but we had Bobby."

"Bobby Singer was a friend of our dad's and he used to babysit us a lot when we were kids but then he and my dad had a falling out," Dean explained, "We didn't see him again until around ten years ago. Bobby was more of a father to us then our dad was, but our dad tried his best. He was always there and he always came back, well almost always obviously."

"This isn't something you should want to know about Stan," Sam said, "Especially from us. The people we love die and we just keep coming back. It's a never ending cycle of tragedy and death."

"You've died?" Stan asked.

"On various occasions." Dean said, "There was one monster that we thought was a trickster that was actually the archangel Gabriel that killed me over and over a hundred different times. It was loads of fun."

"I've died four times." Sam told him, "The first time I was stabbed in the back by a human set on me by a demon, then I was struck by lightning, uhhh, then Dean and I were shot in our motel beds, that's when we went to heaven. And the last time was when I jumped into the pit."

Stan looked like he was going to throw up.

"First time I bit the dust I was in a coma after a demon in a eighteen wheeler slammed into the impala while Sammy, my Dad, and I were all inside. Then my dad sold his soul so I could live." Dean said this like it was old news, like telling a bedtime story, "Second time I died was a year after I sold my soul so that Sammy could live. It was after the first time _he_ died." Dean pointed at Sam, "And it was my job to keep him safe and I failed. I got a year to live, then hell hounds tore me to shreds and dragged me downstairs."

"I've died a few more times but I'd rather speed up this conversation then talk about it." Dean said finishing his beer.

"Frankly I'm tired of this conversation," Sam said with a sigh, "Stan I'm sorry but you're going to have to ask Cas for the low down on everything else. I don't feel like reliving my life for you. It's too depressing."

Sam got up from the bed and walked over to the door and grabbing his jacket, "Dean come on we're going to a bar."

"Awesome." Dean said, shrugged on his leather jacket on and followed Sam but turned around just before he left and said, "And Cas? Remember try and-"

Cas cut him off, "Try and have less of a stick up my butt, yes Dean I know."

They could hear Dean chuckle until the impala's engine started.

"What the hell was that about?" Stand asked.

Cas glared at him, "Sam and Dean have been through much more than any being alive, human or otherwise, could ever possibly handle. They get sensitive."

"And they want you to tell me the rest? The rest of what?"

"Well, from what I understand you want to know what kind of action Sam has seen. It is much too detailed and horrific to possibly explain to you in words but I will try my best."

"Alright."

"When Dean was in Hell he was only there for four months, on earth, which is approximately forty years in Hell, and he was tortured for thirty years before he broke. When he started torturing souls is when the first seal was broken and then I personally pulled him out of the hell fire. To avoid the apocalypse they had to help the angels prevent Lilith, an arch-demon, from breaking sixty six seals that would cause Lucifer to rise an walk among us."

Stan was listening, clearly having trouble believing in such thing.

"Unfortunately when Sam killed Lilith he broke the last seal and Lucifer rose and so on. Sam and Dean had to be born and all of this needed to happen because Dean is the true vessel for the archangel Michael and Sam is the true vessel for Lucifer. To stop the world from being destroyed Sam let Lucifer in and then took control long enough so that he could open the pit and jump inside. The only downfall to this plan was that Sam wasn't coming back."

"Sam's soul was tortured by Lucifer and Michael in Lucifer's cage, for a very long time. What he endured was something I cannot physically put into words. When I pulled him out something was wrong, something was different."

"What?" Stan asked.

"His soul." Cas said simply.

Cas continued to tell the long and dreadful tale of the Winchester to this man, even though he did not think the man deserved to hear it. He explained everything all the way up until where he was now.

Stan was in shock. He felt a thick talon of guilt rip through his chest. He had misjudged Sam so harshly, he hadn't even stopped to think that Sam could have been through hell. Turns out he had.

When Sam and Dean came back to the motel room it was only an hour later, and they weren't nearly as drunk as Cas and Stan had expected them to be.

When Sam and Dean walked into the motel room Dean was holding a decent amount of Sam's weight. There was a large gash on Sam's abdomen and his arm was broken. Dean had a cut that needed stitching on his forehead and was holding his side as if he had bruised ribs.

"Cas, help me out here." Dean said as he sat Sam down on the bed.

"No," Sam winced out, "Cas shouldn't be wasting his juice, I'll be fine."

"Sam," Cas said frowning, "You have bled too much and your arm is broken, I am healing your wounds and there is nothing you can say or do that will stop me."

Dean smiled a little and Sam huffed, "What about Dean?"

"I'm fine. Now shut up and let Cas heal you."

Stan watched as Cas healed Sam's wounds and then staggered backwards a little, some blood dripped out of his nose, but Sam was completely healed.

"Cas you okay?" Dean asked immediately at the angel's side as soon as he saw that Sam was fine.

"I am fine Dean. Better than you at the moment."

"What happened?" Stan asked.

"A stupid witch." Dean mumbled, "I fucking hate witches, man. Figured there would be one right when we walked into the bar."

"Yeah, not to mention it knew who we were."

"That is inevitable Sam," Cas said, "I am positive that most monsters know of your existence. You are the two best hunters that have ever graced the earth."

"Gee Cas you're makin me blush." Dean said sitting down and then groaned and clutched his side.

"Cas go get some ice from the freezer and some floss from the bathroom cabinet." Sam ordered, "Stan? Could you grab the whiskey on the table?" Sam asked and pulled a needle from his duffle bag.

"Sammy come on..."

"Dean you need stitches, and I really don't feel like taking you to the ER because then we have to fill out tons of medical forms and I am all out of lies at the moment."

Stan watched as Sam stitched up his older brother's forehead with a practiced hand. These three men cared so much about each other. Stan had been skeptical when he saw Sam with Amelia, but he had the same look in his eye. The way he looked at these two men and cared for them was how he was with his daughter.

Don hand't been the same since he got back. He had PTSD, and his and Amelia's marriage and relationship was on a thin thread that was being pulled and yanked at constantly.

Sam dealt with PTSD eight times better than Don, and what Sam has been through made Don's situation look like a paper cut.

"She misses you, yah know." Stan said when Sam finished with Dean and sat down. Dean pulled out his knife and began playing with it again, he watched Dean look at how he moved his own hand, like he was trying to mimic how someone else had done it.

"That doesn't help." Sam said.

"I know, I just thought you should know." Stan said, "If you had a different life, if you could get out, I would tell you to go back to her. She would leave Don, and you could be happy."

"I wish I could, I really do. But I have to stay with my family, and I can't get out."

Dean spoke up, "When you're a hunter and the person you love isn't? You're doomed. It's rare to find someone you can be with as a hunter and if you do you can't let go. I did. Biggest mistake of my life."

"Our relationships never last." Sam explained, "I was going to propose to my girlfriend at Stanford and then she died the same way my mother did. Then I fell in Love again and she was a fucking werewolf."

"Don't forget Ruby the demon Sammy." Dean said with a chuckle.

Sam laughed dryly and then said, "I thought it could work with Amelia but it didn't and it won't."

"I had Cassie, but we argued too much, and the first time I told her about monsters she thought I was nuts and ditched." Dean said shaking his head, "And I had Lisa for a little while. When Sam was in the pit I was basically married to her, took care of her kid like he was my own, then it came back and bit me in the ass."

Dean flicked around his knife a little faster and it put Stan on edge a little, Sam didn't even notice.

"I think you're forgetting someone Dean." Sam said.

"I could never forget about her Sammy, not even if I tried."

Stan lifted his eyebrows and Sam sighed, "Jo Harvelle and her mom owned a bar for Hunters in Nebraska called the Roadhouse. Her dad was a hunter, and so was she. Her and Ellen died for us."

"Jo saved my life. She took a hell hound for me. It ripped her right in half. She was the only chance I had at the whole love thing because she was a hunter but that's just it, Stan. No matter what, it's better not to be attached because no one stays alive for too long in this business."

"Accept for you three." Stan observed.

"Team Free Will." Dean said laughing bitterly.

"We continue living, even after we die we come back, it's a curse that no one else should be bothered with." Cas said from the other side of the room.

"Tell Amelia, some day, that I _do_ love her. If you want, explain it to her, tell her why I couldn't stay, or don't it's up to you. I just want her to know that I didn't leave her because I wanted to." Sam told him.

-x-

Sam was asleep, and so was Cas, the angel had used up too much juice on healing Sam. Dean was wide awake though, and so was Stan. They were sitting outside in front of the motel room in wooden chairs. Dean flicked his knife, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"Put down the knife." Stan said.

Dean laughed, "That's what I said to her. Jo I mean. We were on a case and she was flicking her dad's little knife like this. I've been doing it absent mindedly ever since."

"Love does that you."

Dean looked at him. "Why are you really here?"

Stan regarded Dean for a moment before answering, "Originally I was here to find Sam. Amelia wa so happy with him, happier than she was with Don. Then that demon and the wendig-whatever started killing people in the town I was bunking in. And you three showed up."

"Sammy won't leave." Dean said looking at the sky, "And even if he wanted to I wouldn't let him."

"Why?"

"Because I know what it's like for someone you love to be put into danger." Dean said, "This life, it follows us. I was free for a little while but not really. You live in constant fear that it'll catch up. You hide guns in your house, you line the windows and doors with salt, you bless every water bottle in your refrigerator. Sam doesn't want that for Amelia, and I don't want him to lose her like that. He lost Jessica like that, not again. I won't see my baby brother like that again."

"What do I tell her?" Stan asked, "How can I look her in the eye and tell her everything will be okay when there are monsters everywhere and the one man that she really loves is fighting them?"

"You _lie_" Dean said simply, "Because if you don't lie than you're telling the truth and that's just gonna cause her pain that she won't be able to handle."

"How do you do it?"

"I drink a lot of boos, I kill a lot of evil sons o' bitches, and I protect Sammy, knowing that he's safe keeps me going."

"How does Sam do it?"

"Honestly? Sam wants people to be safe. Everyone, he knows that with the knowledge he has he can save lives and that's how he keeps going. Saving lives is what spurs that kid on. Sammy has this undeniable urge to do good, he always been like that. Gave me the toy in the cereal box, dressed up like me for Halloween and said he was a god damn super hero, beat up a bully for his friend, got me my only present on Christmas, and he," Dean shook his head smiling, "One time that kid ran into a house that was _on fire_ while we were walking home from school so he could rescue a little girl's fucking cat. _A cat_."

Stan nodded. Sam is the kind of man, and the the kind of _person_ that Don could never strive to be. That's what he would tell Amelia. He would tell her that even though he left, even though it hurt, he did it because he loves her.

He will tell Amelia that Sam is a _good_ man.

**Sooooooooo that's my oneshottttt. please read and review? Also, sometimes I will update my PSA thingy for weird stuff like asking you to follow me on tumblr or request story ideas. Keep an eye out for my other fics that will be updating periodically. One Love. **

**Liz. **


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